Seventh day of the Sleeping Moon——
After the first snowfall.
Frost locked down the roads from the mountains of Anlek to the countryside of Ambeser. Diplomatic efforts from various factions at Free Port had wasted two months in vain. The cold season ultimately froze the turmoil in the North. The fierce rumors of the Northern War from two months ago faded away like a baseless myth.
However, those who could truly see through it all understood that beneath this false calm lay a deeper crisis. Beneath the snow-covered, frozen world was not silence, but an explosion waiting after the endurance.
Swords shouted, yearning for blood.
It seemed as though after the snow melted and spring came, what seeped into the ground wasn't melted snow, but blood. Brand was well aware of this, just as he was aware of the black and white words in history books.
